


A Place in the Sun

by Plasticgalaxy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, Gen, basically the institute, heavily inspired by fallout 4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 06:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13452267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plasticgalaxy/pseuds/Plasticgalaxy
Summary: You've lived your entire life in an underground compound, but you yearn to visit the surface world. Your adventures don't go as planned, and you find yourself responsible for a loud, explosive surface-dweller who has no business coming back with you.





	A Place in the Sun

“Any questions?” Visions of warm sun rays beaming down on a white sand beach dissipated as Elder Samson’s gruff voice cut through your daydreams. You’d zoned out of yet another weekly history lecture. Shame, because you really enjoyed learning what you could about the surface world. The omnic crisis had happened before your time, but some of the elders still remembered. A few of them were old enough to have lived life even before the compound existed.

As teens and adults shuffled out of the hall to return to their jobs or leisure activities, you made your way up to Elder Samson. He was gathering up his lecture materials. You sidled up to the podium and put on your friendliest smile, hoping he wouldn’t brush you off today. Upon seeing you, Elder Samson sighed heavily, the lines in his bearded face seeming to grow deeper with weariness. He knew what your question would be before you even asked it.

“You’ve been to the surface, right, Elder Samson?” You didn’t wait for him to answer that, because you knew he had. He’d been around before the omnic crisis, and he was one of the few humans of the compound who had clearance to leave when it was necessary. “What’s it like?”

“We’ve been through this before.” His tone was guarded as he tucked a couple of folders under his arm. “It’s an awful, barren wasteland. Whatever isn’t warred over by the raiders and the scavvers is warped and mangled from the radiation and destruction many decades ago.” He turned down a hallway, picking up his pace and hoping to lose you. But you were persistent, and matched his gait.

“What’s the sun like?” He always answered this question the same way, but you’d always felt like he was holding back. Every time, you’d hoped to get a better answer.

“Like the ambient lighting in the atrium. Our scientists have done an incredible job here, and you’d do well to remember that.” He stopped in front of a lab door, running a hand through his curly salt and pepper hair. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do, and so do you.”

Before you could ask any more questions, Elder Samson had turned away from you, quickly dipping into the lab’s entrance. You watched his back disappear behind the sliding doors before dejectedly making your way back to the atrium.

The atrium was the center-most area of the compound. It was a huge open area fitted with bioengineered lawns and artificial streams that ran in an efficient but aesthetically pleasing pattern down to a central pool. The atrium was considered the one “outdoor” area surrounded by the “indoors” areas of the labs, classrooms, and personal quarters. The lights here were different. It was a warmer light, it felt comfortable to bask in when you had the day off and nothing to do. It would dim in the evening, triggering the soft white pathway lights and signalling the end of the work day. And even though you’d spent your entire life here in the compound, never knowing anything else, it just felt incomplete. You were sure the real sun was something even more wonderful, and you had high hopes of one day seeing it for yourself.

“‘Scuse me miss, is this seat taken?” You looked up from where you sat on an atrium bench to a pale, freckled face grinning down at you.

“Hey, Carter,” you greeted. “I was just leaving.”

“Aw, c’mon.” He slid onto the bench next to you, and snaked an arm around your shoulders. “You can stay for a little. Those omnics ain’t going anywhere.”

Carter was a few years older than you and spent his days growing crops in the hydroponics lab and helping to bioengineer better foods for the compound. He was a smart guy, and good looking to boot, but he was a huge flirt. There wasn’t a single girl of courtship age in the compound that he hadn’t tried to woo in some way or another. He seemed to have special interest in you, though, constantly pestering you for dates and sending you prototype flowers every chance he got.

“Hey, Carter, what do you think the sun is like? You know, the real one?”

“Who cares?” He shrugged as he leaned in towards you. “I’ve heard it’s harsh and will burn your skin if you’re not careful. The atrium light is much better, if I do say so myself. And it looks great on you.” He curled a finger under your chin.

“Thanks, Carter.” You shoved his arm off and rose to your feet. He fell over onto the empty spot you’d left behind. “I’ll see you later.”

“Is that a promise?” He grinned after you, righting himself on the bench as you walked away. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response.

Little did you know that the day you would actually get to see the sun for yourself was rapidly approaching. It was always something you wanted, to visit the surface, but given your age and position within the compound, it was unlikely you’d ever get the chance. You were a 25 year old omnic technician, charged with repair and tune-ups of the compound’s omnics and occasionally helping with assembly. Your assignment wasn’t without merit, and you took a lot of pride in your work, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t envy the researchers, emergency medics, and surface archivists who got to leave the compound on special assignments. Sometimes you even wished you lived your existence as an omnic instead of a human; the ones built here in the compound were made to withstand the cruel surface habitats and to blend in enough with humans to gather needed information and materials from them. And so they were sent to the surface often and given free reign to leave the compound as needed.

Today, you were assigned to the repair lab. That was good news for you, as you used your time here to pilfer different components and bits you needed for your secret pet project. Faulty and broken omnic components were often melted down and recycled into other things, and no one noticed the odd unaccounted for piece here and there. Nor did they seem notice when a perfectly good working part was junked as faulty, and then went missing.

It had taken you several months to collect everything you needed, but today you were able to snag the last and most important piece: the precious translocator. Most that had come through the repair lab were totally burnt out and not able to be salvaged, and it was too risky to try to take a new one from the assembly lab where the intricately constructed components were carefully accounted for.

However, today you had an omnic come through with a malfunctioning translocator. You recognized the problem right away and it was actually an easy fix, but you convinced the omnic in question that it absolutely had to be replaced. The old translocator was placed on a tray amidst some tools, and managed to “disappear” when you were re-arranging and cleaning your station for the next repair job. You were certain none of the others working in the repair lab with you noticed you slip it into your smock pocket, but it felt heavy and ever present against your thigh.

The end of your shift couldn’t come fast enough. You tittered with excitement and trepidation, and more than one omnic coming through your station after your acquisition commented on your delighted jittering. You assured them that you were simply in a particularly good mood today, nothing more, nothing less. No one was any wiser, you were sure of it.

When your second shift replacement showed up, you nearly bowled her over in your eagerness to get back to your living quarters. You lived in a simple, single-occupancy apartment on the sixth floor, directly across the atrium from the omnics labs. If the lift was already at the ground floor, it would take you seven and a half minutes precisely to get from the lab to your quarters. You picked up your pace as you crossed the lawn, every extra second seeming to drag by.

You were intercepted by Carter, much to your dismay. He had the entire three square miles of compound to prowl, and several hundred people with which to interact, yet he chose to be here. In your way. You shifted impatiently from one foot to the other. The lift was on a downward path and currently stopped at the third floor.

“Hey, sweetness,” he purred at you. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner together later.”

“I… can't.” The lift stopped at the second floor. “I'm, uh, busy later.”

“Busy? With what?” Carter's face scrunched up in dismay. He wasn't used to being rejected. “Hey, what's the hurry?” He grabbed your arm as you began to inch away.

“I have a stomach ache.” You lied. The lift was almost at the ground floor.

“You know the infirmary is that way, right?” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, the opposite direction in which you were trying to head.

“I just need to use the bathroom, I'll be fine.” You wrenched your arm from Carter's loose grip and made a break for it before he could recover from his confusion and ask any more questions.

Breathlessly, you made it to the lift just as the doors were starting to close, and managed to slip in just before the glass capsule sealed up completely. You earned some questioning glances from the other folks in the lift with you, and a child snickered, but you ignored them. You were in too excited of a mood to let anyone ruin it.

Four agonizing minutes later and you were bursting into your living quarters, hastily locking the door before laying your prized acquisition out on the living room table.

This was it. This intricately constructed piece of computer hardware, no bigger than the palm of your hand, was your golden ticket to seeing the surface world.

You retrieved a box from under your bed. Inside was your pet project, a sizable but streamlined forearm cuff with a small, square output display near the wrist end. You turned it over in your hands for a moment, feeling a burst of giddiness bubble up in your gut.

Settling down at the low living room table, you pried open a panel on the cuff’s chassis and carefully inserted the translocator. It fit into place with a satisfying click. You closed it up and pressed a recessed button on the inner edge. The output display flashed to life. It was working, which was a fantastic start.

You had your evening’s work cut out for you. First you had to run the diagnostic on the translocator and fix the error feedback, and then you had to disable the targeting system. Doing so would revoke your ability to transport to any specified locations - you'd be jumping into the surface world at random - but it also meant that you couldn't be tracked. If the elders found out you did this… well, you didn't even want to think about the depth of trouble you'd be in. No need to sour your mood when you hadn't even done anything yet. Technically.

By the time you were done running your diagnostics, tweaking your settings, and erupting into random fits of excited giggles, it was well into the evening. You'd missed dinner by a good few hours, but you weren't hungry anyway. As much as you wanted to rush out and test the cuff now, you had to wait until the morning. Tomorrow would be your day off, and you could slip off during the breakfast rush without anyone noticing your absence.

You were barely able to sleep a wink that night.

The next day came agonizingly slow, but you could barely contain yourself once the morning light from the atrium filtered in through the shade on your balcony doors. You packed a small satchel with tools and snacks, in case anything went awry. Wrapping your cuff in a thin cloth, you nestled it into the bottom of the satchel and hoisted the whole thing over one shoulder before heading out.

Third shift hadn't ended yet, and those who weren't working were either still sleeping or having breakfast in the mess hall. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you made your way down the side halls of the compound, careful to avoid the atrium this morning. Too many eyes, too many idle busybodies. If you could avoid running into anyone at all this morning, it would be ideal.

However, your plans did not go as smoothly as you'd hoped.

You were in the classroom wing when you bumped - literally - into Elder Samson, who was just coming out of an office. He greeted you with mild surprise.

“Where are you off to this morning?” He asked, eyeing the satchel over your shoulder.

“I, ah…” You weren't a very good liar, and it felt like your heart was in your throat. “I brought some parts home from the lab last night to work on, and I'm just dropping them off.” You grinned meekly, hoping it was believable.

“Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow. You felt panic begin to rise in your gut. But then, you realized, you knew exactly how to get Elder Samson off your case.

“Hey Elder Samson, can you tell me more about the sun? The real sun?” You watched his expression for a moment, watching it drop as he visibly suppressed a groan.

“I’m actually late for a lecture right now. Anyway, I’ve already told you everything I know.” He thumbed through the stack of papers he was holding as he walked past you. You listened intently to the sound of his footsteps as they progressed further away, and breathed a sigh of relief when you heard another door swish open.

You continued on your way, intent on your destination. In your quest for eventually visiting the surface, you’d learned of an abandoned wing of the compound that had been decommissioned as advances in technology built better and more efficient machinery. Despite plans for renovation, it hadn’t been touched in decades, with the overseer and elders focusing more on downward expansion as the population of the compound steadily grew over the years. In this abandoned area had been the previous hub for travel in and out. It had been disconnected from all of the compound’s systems except for a minimal amount of electricity to keep the central computers online. Just enough power to transport one person in or out, with a recharge time of about ten minutes.

The entrance to the abandoned wing was in the back of a utility room, but you’d made it there without further incident. There was a shelving unit full of medpacks in front of the door, and it only slid open about halfway, but you were able to squeeze in and leave it looking rather inconspicuous.

This area of the compound was dark. Emergency lights emitted a faint glow, allowing you to take in the empty hallways, grimy office windows, desks with paperwork still scattered on them, everything covered in a fine dust. There was no sound except for a faint hum of electricity, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the rest of the compound. You felt as if your very breath would disturb the stillness of this relic trapped in time.

After a moment of reverie, you continued on your way, recalling the map you’d memorized. The room you were looking for was just at the end of the hall. It’s doorway stood open, and you could see the glow from the computer terminal.

It was even more impressive than you’d imagined it. With the advancement of technology, everything had become smaller, more compact, more streamlined. This room housed a massive bank of computer servers and monitoring equipment hooked up to a single terminal. Behind that was a large raised platform, the teleporter pad. You ran a hand over the keypad before seating yourself at the terminal, reveling in the sheer size of everything.

Taking a deep breath and centering yourself, you removed the cuff from your satchel and plugged a wire from an access panel into it. A prompt blinked on the terminal’s screen. If you wanted to return to the compound after your adventure, which you _did_ , you’d have to make sure a homing beacon was set. And you had to make sure that homing beacon pointed to this empty, abandoned room, because otherwise it would default to the _current_ warp room, and there was absolutely nothing on this earth that would land you in worse trouble.

And just like that, your preparations were done. All that was left to do was to equip the cuff and activate it. You had a sudden pang of fear, thoughts of doubt flooding your mind. Maybe this wouldn’t work. Perhaps it was a bad idea. What if you died?

You thought about your idealized visions of white sand beaches, and of the sun, the real sun, and you made up your mind. You were going to do this even if it ended in your demise. There was nothing you wanted more.

The cuff fit snugly around your forearm, a nodule on the inside pressing uncomfortably against your pulse point. You held your satchel close with a white-knuckled grip as you ascended the few steps onto the warp platform. The terminal beeped a few times to let you know that the delay on the transport command you set was ending.

_Here goes nothing._

You shut your eyes tight as a flash of white light enveloped you. You felt weightless, and then suddenly like someone had violently thrown you. Your stomach flipped and churned. Vertigo swirled your senses around, and you couldn’t figure out which way was up.

As soon as it began, it was over. You were standing on solid ground again. The screen on your cuff read a series of numbers, a latitude and longitude that were useless to you in your limited knowledge of the surface world. Your eyes took a moment to focus on your surroundings. The building you had been transported inside looked like it may have been someone’s residence at some point, but it was badly dilapidated. A far wall had a gaping hole, and debris was strewn across the cracked and warped wood flooring. Light poured in through the hole. Was that it? Was that… the sun?

Your stomach was starting to settle and you rushed to the makeshift exit, instantly looking upwards. The sky was a massive expanse of blue, dotted with bits of white fluff. You tried to look at the sun itself but your eyes hurt when they got close, and your eyelids shut tightly of their own accord. But it felt warm, almost hot, on your face and your arms. You began to sweat, but you didn’t care. A breeze picked up, and everything was absolutely delightful.

After you gained control of your giddiness, you took a look around. There were several more structures like the one you were in nearby, some in worse condition than the one you ended up in. With the exception of scraggly vines and brush that grew over everything, the whole place seemed to be devoid of any life.

An object half-buried in the dirt caught your attention. You carefully stepped over the collapsed wall and dislodged the object with your foot. It was an omnic’s head, ripped clean from the body (wherever that was) and dented badly on one side. Picking it up and turning it over in your hands, you wondered if it was one of the compound’s or if it came from somewhere else.

Before you could ponder this omnic’s origin and fate further, you became aware of sounds nearby. Some rustling and shuffling, and some muffled voices. Were there people here? Were they civilized? What did they look like? You didn’t have to wonder for long.

A couple buildings away, a man rounded the corner, pausing for a moment. He was tall and lanky, but hunched over with a massive contraption strapped to his back. His right arm and leg were missing, and he wore naught more than a pair of tattered shorts and a peg leg. Stopping for a moment, he scratched at his unruly blonde hair, before meeting eyes with you.

He was quite the shocking sight to see, but maybe he’d be friendly.

“Oi!” He shrieked at you, pointing an accusatory finger. “Who th’fuck are you?”

“I…” You began, but your voice trailed off as a hulking behemoth of a man wearing an animal-shaped gas mask rounded the corner wielding a sharp metal hook that probably outweighed you by a good several dozen pounds. Perhaps these folks weren’t friendly after all.

The skinny one’s incredulous glare travelled down to the omnic head you still held in your hands, and he began hollering shrilly at you.

“That’s _mine!_ ” He declared, beginning to advance towards you with an uneven gait. “We was ‘ere first, and I ain’t gonna let you steal any of _my_ junk!”

You dropped the omnic head, turned on your heels, and ran.

“Wait! I ain’t done with you! Nobody steals from Junkrat an’ lives to tell it!”

You heard a blast, and bits of shrapnel exploded in the dirt around you. You mashed at the recall button on your cuff frantically. The air around you seemed to haze and densen for a moment, but then dissipated. _Shit._ It hadn’t yet been long enough for the transporter to reserve enough power for your return trip.

“Th’fuck?!” You heard Junkrat exclaim.

Rounding a corner, you leaned against a building to catch your breath. You’d ducked into cover just as you’d heard another blast, and bits of the loosened siding pelted you. You were about to make a run for it again when a hand grabbed your arm, and you were suddenly jerked back and pinned against the wall.

“Who’re you workin’ for?” Junkrat sneered through clenched teeth, frowning down at you. You tried to wriggle free from his grasp, but he was surprisingly strong for such a thin, sinewy creature missing half his limbs. His face and bare torso were covered in soot and dirt, and amber eyes glowered at you from under bushy eyebrows. His breath was acrid on your face as he continued to shout questions at you. “You ain’t one of those Overwatch fuckers, are ya? Oi, sheila, do you even fuckin’ talk? What the bloody hell’s your problem?”

As if on cue, you broke down and began to cry. Tears streamed freely down your face as audible sobs racked your body. How embarrassing. You tried to get a handle on your breathing but it just made your blubbering worse as you babbled incoherently.

“I-I didn’t mean it…” Junkrat’s stammering voice was suddenly soft and doubtful. “Look, I’m sorry if I hurt ya, I just…”

Despite your vision blurred with tears, and your chest still heaving with sobs, you took the opportunity and kicked Junkrat’s good leg out from under him. He released his grip on you with a surprised squawk as he fell over.

“You _bitch!_ ” He seethed, floundering in the dirt as you took off again. The big one in the mask had just rounded the corner and you heard him reloading his gun.

“C’mon…” You pleaded with your cuff as you tried the recall function again. No dice. It had to have been close to ten minutes at this point, you just had to make sure you out-ran these crazy men until you could get safely back to the compound. Another blast, and more shrapnel exploded around you. Either the big guy was a really bad shot, or he was just trying to scare you.

Rounding a corner, you dipped into a hole of another building and bounded up the creaking stairs. There was some furniture on the second floor, and you hid yourself behind a large armoire.

Less than a minute later, you heard the bootfall and staccato of Junkrat’s peg leg on the floor below.

“Come on out, little birdie.” He called out. “I know you’re in here somewhere.” His lilt ended with a mischievous giggle that sent a shiver of terror up your spine. The uneven footsteps continued across the lower floor, stopping occasionally to the sounds of furniture being overturned or cabinets being thrown open. He would let out a triumphant shriek with every violent reveal of a potential hiding place, only to grumble about it when he still hadn’t found you.

You pressed the recall button again. Still nothing. Junkrat’s footsteps began to ascend the stairs.

“Come out and play!” He sang, following it with another bout of sinister laughter. This was it. This is how you were going to die.

There wasn’t much in this second floor room except for a broken down bed frame, a set of drawers that clearly wouldn’t hide you, and the armoire. Junkrat knew exactly where you were the moment he laid eyes on the room, and he made a slow and agonizing show of it.

“Hmm, wonder where you could be hiding…” You heard the cracking and splintering of wood as the bed frame was assaulted. “Nope! Not there!” A drawer was yanked out of the upright chest and flung across the room. You flinched with the sound of impact. “Not there neither!” His steps drew close, and you could hear his labored breathing, racked with giggles.

He grunted as he shoved the armoire aside, and a toothy grin spread across his face as he laid eyes on you.

“There you are, ya dunny rat.” He advanced towards you, and with a fleeting thread of hope, you pressed the recall button once more.

Junkrat’s voice was suddenly distant and garbled as his form twisted and faded. The air closed in around you and everything was enveloped in that flash of bright light. Your stomach churned, and when you were on solid ground again, you found yourself in the abandoned transport room. Alone.

You’d made it back alive. You collapsed on the transport pad, laughing incredulously at what you’d just done, what you’d just barely survived. What an incredible rush.

The cuff went back into your satchel and you made it back to your room without anyone intercepting you. You took a quick shower, changed your clothes, and then went down to the mess hall for lunch, acting like nothing had ever happened. And no one was suspicious of you, either.

That night, you laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying the day’s events in your head. You’d done it. You’d seen the sun. The real, actual sun. You’d also outrun and were nearly captured by some mercenaries who meant you some serious harm. Even considering the time you’d fallen into the atrium’s pool as a toddler and nearly drowned, this was the closest you’d ever come to death, probably ever.

There was absolutely no good reason for you to visit the surface, ever again.

But there were _tons_ of bad reasons, and those would be the ones that would eventually win out.


End file.
